


One (Drunken) Day

by ohmyheartsbeentried



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Helps Stiles, F/M, M/M, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, the whole motley crew (no one dies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 06:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyheartsbeentried/pseuds/ohmyheartsbeentried
Summary: Derek heard about the proposal through Melissa, of all people.





	One (Drunken) Day

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluffy, drunk, over-the-phone love confessions from my favorite boys. This piece changes perspective often, but the changes are flagged with x's and paragraph breaks to make them obvious.
> 
> Inspired by Ed Sheeran's "One"
> 
>  
> 
> _Tell me that you turned down the man_  
>  Who asks for your hand  
> 'Cause you're waiting for me  
> And I know, you're gonna be away a while  
> But I've got no plans at all to leave
> 
>  
> 
> _And would you take away my hopes and dreams and just stay with me?_

Derek heard about the proposal through Melissa, of all people. 

She came into the shop with a busted exhaust pipe, but ended up venting her worries to him about Scott as Derek worked on her car. Derek wasn’t caught up on Scott’s worries about his best friend or even about the proposal itself. His mind was lingering on the fact that Stiles had hung around the town all summer since graduating college and he hadn’t once reached out to Derek. And now he’s hearing about this important, life-altering event from Scott’s _mother_ (no offense to Melissa). 

But the absolute worst part is this guy, this _ignoramus_ , proposed to Stiles _three days_ before Stiles is supposed to leave for his new job in New York. As if that were going to make him stay in Beacon Hills somehow. Derek is quite familiar with the Stilinski brand of stubbornness. When Stiles sets his mind on something, he doesn’t let it go easily. And, obviously, his mind wasn’t set on this guy, since Melissa divulges that Stiles turned him down. 

But his mind was never set on Derek either.

xxxx 

It’s just after 2 am when the bartender cuts him off and sends him home. Stiles squints into the light from his phone as he struggles to pull his arm through his jacket sleeve. His head is swimming and his body feels pleasantly warm, but there’s an ache in the pit of his stomach. He knows there’s things he wanted to forget tonight, but he still couldn’t get rid of that feeling. 

He stumbles over to a lamppost, clinging to it as his head spins. A voice to his right asks if he’s okay, Stiles cocks his head in that direction, praying he won’t throw up. The guy is stocky with sandy blonde hair and wearing a fitted t-shirt under a leather jacket. He looks like Zach with Derek’s body - his stomach lurches. The guy asks again if Stiles is alright and Stiles promptly vomits. He closes his eyes and breathes through the nausea.

Zach’s face swims in his vision, his head tilted up from bent knee, the way Stiles balked as he heard himself say, “No”, the droop of Zach’s shoulders and the way his face twisted, calling him selfish and callous. He feels the jolt in his gut as he remembers jumping in his Jeep right after and driving by Derek’s auto shop, seeing him in his stained tank top, accented in grease and sweat. 

He plops down next to his puddle of vomit and gives a thumbs up to the guy, who nods and keeps walking. Stiles rests his head against the lamppost and looks up at the seemingly infinite stretch of buildings above him. 

The heavy feeling in his stomach grows, rising into his throat, choking him until his eyes water. He misses the pack. He misses his dad. He wishes he never left Beacon Hills. The lump in his throat bursts and he releases a wet sob as the tears finally spill over.

He fumbles with his phone, scrolling through his recent contacts - he stops at his name. He hasn’t called him in six months, not since the last supernatural incident just before graduation. But if anyone would understand this feeling of loneliness, of helplessness, of needing to _prove_ himself - 

It goes straight to voicemail. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t remember repeatedly pressing “Call Derek”. Unfortunately still, he doesn’t see the repercussions of his drunkenness until the following morning. He has seven missed calls and one voicemail - all from Derek.

xxxx 

Derek hovers his thumb over the play button again. This would be the 37th time he’s listened to it this morning. It’s mostly Stiles rambling, but there’s a part at the end that makes Derek’s heart clench. _My life isn’t the same without you, Der. I can’t do this without you._

After the 40th time, he feels brave enough to press the call button. It goes straight to voicemail and Derek’s heart sinks. _Hey, this is Stiles. I’ve either lost my phone or my battery is probably dead. Tough luck. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you._ He finds himself smiling softly at Stiles’ voice and almost forgets about the possibility of leaving a message until he hears the beep.

“Uh, hi. It’s Derek. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you made it home alright last night, you sounded pretty far gone…” Derek winces, that’s not what he meant to say. 

“There was, uh, a lot of rambling about destiny, fate, and coincidence, most of which I didn’t follow, of course, but that’s pretty typical when it comes to anything that comes out of your mouth,” he chuckles and then cringes. This message is turning out horribly. 

He sighs, “But if there’s one thing I took from your rambling, it’s that you… might be… feeling overwhelmed. It might be a big city, but New York is fucking lonely. I know that.” Derek remembers those first couple years with Laura in New York, cramped in a shoebox apartment with only their grief for company. 

“I know that, no matter how many people you surround yourself with, nothing can fill that hole in your chest.” He still feels it sometimes, the aching feeling underneath his breast bone, a dull reminder of the family he lost. He rubs his chest thoughtfully, “You just need to give it time, Stiles. Give the city time. Give yourself time to adjust. You- you’re the strongest person that I know. If anyone can push through this, it’s you.” Derek hesitates before he says, “Stiles, I- *BEEP* 

xxx 

“You have _got_ to be _kidding me!_ ” Stiles yells at his phone and immediately regrets it, rubbing his temples. His hangover didn’t let him forget about last night, but it also didn’t let him remember the numerous calls he apparently left on Derek’s phone. After plugging in his phone this morning, he realized his voicemail cut off Derek’s responding message right before what Stiles can only assume would have been a declaration of love. 

Regardless of whether Stiles’ assumptions are right, Derek didn’t just ignore his drunken calls. He not only listened, he _heard_. In between all the drunken gibberish, Derek heard what Stiles wasn’t saying. He’s the only person that’s been able to do that other than his father. 

He has his phone pressed against his temple, trying to decide whether he should call or text or even respond at all, when said phone vibrates with an incoming call. Stiles’ heart jumps in his chest at the sight of Derek’s photo ID - Derek at the grand opening of his auto shop, wearing one of the dozen crisp, new white tank tops Stiles bought for him as a gag gift. 

He hesitates before swiping to accept the call. 

“He-Hello?” 

_“Stiles, thank God.”_ Derek’s voice is strange over the phone - maybe it’s the distance or just in Stiles’ head, but he misses the smooth quality of Derek’s voice in person. _“I was worried about you.”_

Stiles simultaneously flushes at the obvious care in Derek’s voice but prickles at the implication that he isn’t able to take care of himself. “Derek, I’m fine. Last night was just a late night of drunken confessions.” 

_“Oh.”_ He hates the way he can practically hear the disappointment in that exhale. _“It’s just that your message-“_

“It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have called you and dumped all of that on you,” Stiles says quickly, heart constricting painfully. Sober or drunk, he always wants to call Derek. Throughout their lives, he’s always been the one that has Stiles’ back and vice versa. He hates the way he’s belittling it now, but he needs to let go. He’s too dependent on the people he loves. 

And he does. He does love Derek. 

His thumb jabs at the “End Call” button.

xxx 

Derek’s inner turmoil over the ‘mistake’ of a phone call (or twelve) simmers when Stiles breaks the silence over the phone with a murmured, _“Shit.”_

When Stiles doesn’t say anything else, Derek asks, “Stiles? Are you okay?”

_“Fuck,”_ Stiles says, and it sounds like he’s moved away from the phone, though his voice raises as he continues, _“Of fucking course he has to call me now when I’m all the way across the country, just out of a failed relationship and lonely as hell, trying to get my career started and failing miserably, not to mention I’m in desperate need of a hug… or a good fuck. Zach never was good in bed.”_

At this point, Derek realizes Stiles has either forgotten he’s still on the phone, or he thinks he hung up and hasn’t realized he didn’t yet. He tries to get his attention, “Stiles-“

But Stiles talks over him, _“Dammit, why did it have to be now? Why did it have to be him? I’ve known him for years! Why couldn’t this have come after a heroic defeat of a supernatural baddie? Or during pack game night! We had plenty of those…”_

Derek scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. Who is Stiles referring to? As far as Derek knows (through Melissa from Scott), Stiles never told Zach about the supernatural side of his life. He never brought Zach to pack game night. In fact, he hadn’t been to pack game night at all for the year or so they were together. 

His mind flips through the only other men in their pack: Scott (whom Stiles sees as a brother, currently happily married), Boyd (whom Stiles has a weirdly nerdy relationship with in addition to his now fiancee, Erica), Jackson (whose Stiles loathes in every way), and Isaac (whom Stiles has always seen and treated as a younger brother, despite being the same age). And then there’s just Derek. 

_“God, I’m so stupid. I gave up too easily, I basically ran away, I’m obviously terrified of commitment. And feelings. How could I even entertain the thought— we had so much time — to be something— I can’t believe — I thought this —could even work— for a second-“_

Derek notices the beginning signs of a panic attack in Stiles’ breathing and yells into the phone, “Stiles! Pick up the phone!”

xxx 

There’s an excruciatingly long couple of seconds where Stiles can only hear his labored breathing before he picks up his discarded phone, seconds ticking upward on the screen as the call continues, and he whispers, “Derek?”

_“I’m here. Breathe with me, Stiles.”_

Derek heard. He heard everything. His throat seizes and his breathing rasps, fighting against his constricted windpipe. His eyes burn with frustration and pain. 

_“Stiles! Follow my breaths, okay? I need you to take a deep breath in for me.”_ Stiles manages to suck in a weak breath. _“Good, now let it out slowly. And then another breath in and then let it out.”_

Derek directs him through his measured breathing exercises. Back in high school when Derek would slip through his bedroom window on the norm, he happened upon Stiles mid-attack. It was as mortifying as it was terrifying to watch Derek watch him struggle. The utter despair in Derek’s eyes was gutting, a reflection of Stiles’ own pain, knowing that this was just another facet of his life he had no power over. While Stiles hated being another person, another human, in Derek’s life that could get hurt, Derek had stayed until the attack subsided and after some embarrassment, Stiles had told him how to help next time. 

Stiles is impressed at how well Derek remembers those tips, he helps get Stiles breaths back to normal in record time. Stiles takes a few more moments to gather his thoughts. 

“So… I guess you heard all of that,” he starts, for once unsure what to say to this man he’s known for years. 

_“Yeah… now I know why you turned Zach down.”_ Stiles can practically hear Derek’s smirk and he can’t help but chuckle. _“Look, I know you didn’t want me to hear all that.”_

“Understatement,” Stiles retorts, even though his heart is beating wildly in his chest.

_“But I just want you to know that… I’m here. For more than late night drunken phone calls. For more than helping you through panic attacks. I’ll always be here for you, Stiles.”_

His heart feels like it’s lifting, trying to pump it’s way out of his chest. 

“I’d like that, the ‘more than’ part,” he says and then cringes, rubbing a hand down his face. “I mean, I want more - not that this isn’t enough, I’d be happy with you talking me down from panic attacks every day, but I feel like that set up would have an expiration date for me and I’d like to have as much time with you as possible, not that I’m dying soon or anything, or I hope not - “

_“Stiles.”_ Derek’s voice sounds almost fond. _“I want that too. I want you.”_

His eyes are prickling, he can’t stop grinning, and his heart is rabbiting away in his ribcage - Stiles feels like he’s about to burst.

xxx 

“Stiles? Are you okay?” Derek says, alarmed at his silence.

_“Yeah, I really am,”_ he croaks over the phone. _“Only you could make me speechless with so few words, Derek Hale.”_

He chuckles lightly, heart soaring at this sudden reveal of the feelings he’s been dancing around for years. He has to be sure that Stiles feels the same way, this isn’t a one time thing for him. 

“So… you really want this? Me and you?” he asks hesitantly, blatant disbelief obvious in his voice. 

_“Yes. 1000% yes,”_ Stiles crows reassuringly. His nerves settle slightly and then he asks the main question on his mind. 

“Even so soon after Zach?”, his voice almost a whisper.

Stiles sighs heavily before saying, _“Der, he didn’t mean much to me - as terrible as that is for me to say. Zach was my way of trying to get over you.”_ His heart flips in his chest at the thought of Stiles trying to forget him. 

_“I had just about given up on you when I met him. I thought, it couldn’t hurt to try since nothing had happened between us… I was so naive,”_ Stiles says the last part almost to himself. _“Even in the beginning I was constantly comparing him to you. Everything felt off but I stayed because I needed a distraction since I couldn’t have you.”_

Derek nearly whines at how much time they could’ve had together. “Stiles-“

_“I know it’s way too early for this, but we’ve known each other for so long. And I don’t know how you didn’t realize it, Der, but I’ve been in love with you for years.”_

Derek’s heart stutters in his chest before frantically beating its escape from his chest. 

“I love you too,” Derek says, nearly holding his breath for Stiles’ response. 

_“Fuck,”_ Stiles says with a laugh, _“What have we been doing all these years?”_

“Repressing our emotions to align with the stereotypical stoic male norm of our society? 

Stiles lets out a deep laugh - Derek can imagine his head tilted back, mouth wide, eyes crinkled with mirth. He can’t wait to see him in person again. 

_“Well, I’m glad we finally shook that stereotype,”_ Stiles says. 

Derek smiles, clutching his phone closer to his ear. “Hey, so I know you’re going to be in New York for a while, but I was wondering if I could come visit? They probably won’t let you have many days off since you’re new, right?” 

_“Yeah,”_ Stiles groans. _“But I would seriously consider using dark magic to get you here, like, yesterday.”_

Derek chuckles, “No need to sacrifice anyone quite yet - I’ll check out flights tonight.”

_“Sweet - I can’t wait to see your broody mug, Sourwolf. It’s been too long.”_ Derek can practically see the smirk on Stiles’ face. 

“I’ve missed you too, Stiles,” he says, his cheeks straining from the width of the grin on his face.

xxx 

16 Hours Later 

A buzzing noise vibrates next to Stiles’ head, jarring him from sleep. His phone is lit up - Derek’s calling. He blearily accepts the call. 

“Der? You okay?”

_“Sssstiles!”_ Derek drunk whispers over the line. _“You sleeping?”_

“Not anymore, big guy,” Stiles says, sitting up in bed and checking the time. He’s half amused, half annoyed - he does have to get up for work in three hours, but Derek is so damn cute when he drinks. 

_“Sorry, sorry - Stiles, go back to sleep,”_ he slurs. 

“I will, I will, Der. Now, where are you? Is the pack with you?” While he doesn’t have to worry too much about Derek being able to take care of himself, he’s definitely more easily manipulated when drunk. 

_“Pack’s all here. In the loft. I just- Stiles, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, but they made me. I couldn’t… I didn’t…”_ Derek trails off, sniffling and Stiles’ heart clenches. 

“Derek?” He waits for an affirmative sound from the other man. “Hand the phone to Cora.” 

There’s some shuffling on the other end, the sound of a doorknob being turned and then Cora’s voice, _“Stiles?”_

“Cora, what’s going on? Why is Derek upset?”

_“Look, whatever he said, he’s fine. He’s being a melodramatic drunk, per usual.”_ She says, huffing. 

“You know he’s easy to mess with when he’s drunk, Cor. But why would you make him do something he didn’t want to do?”

_“Is that what he said? For fuck’s sake - we all came over for Pack Night, like we always do, and he was smiling. Like full out grinning. Stiles, I’ve never seen him like that. He barely smiled before the fire, a little smirk here or there, but smiling? We were shocked.”_

Stiles bites back a grin - Derek was smiling about him. About their conversation. About their feelings for each other. He definitely doesn’t swoon. 

_“So, we asked him what was going on and he said it was a night for celebration. He broke out the laced alcohol, Stiles. I thought my brother had actually lost it. But he told us it was a happy occasion, that he was happy. So of course, I wanted to know the cause, but he kept saying that he’d tell us soon, but that it didn’t just involve him.”_

Cora sighs heavily. _“I got scared, Stiles. So did the rest of the Pack. You remember the last time he got involved with someone. There were human sacrifices. It fucking sucked.”_

Stiles half-heartedly laughs, but he has a feeling he knows where this is going. 

_“Thankfully, the drunker he got, the looser his tongue - it only took one mention of you by Scott and he couldn’t stop talking about you. He even drunkenly navigated his iPad to show us the plane tickets he bought to come visit you. He made us promise not to tell you,”_ she laughs delightedly and Stiles coos at the man’s eagerness to see him. _“But then he suddenly realizes that we all know and starts freaking out that you’re going to break up with him or something.”_

“I would never - “ 

Cora cuts him off, _“I know you wouldn’t, Stiles. But you obviously know my brother, he spirals pretty fast when his mind latches onto something.”_

“Yeah, that’s true,” he concedes. 

_“So he locked himself in the bathroom and called you and now we’re here,”_ she finishes. 

“And where’s Derek right now?” he asks.

There’s a pause before she says, _“Kira’s consoling him. Well, looks like she’s just nodding to everything he says. That can’t be good.”_ Stiles can practically see it - Derek and Kira have always been close, more similar in demeanor than they would appear. 

“Hey, Cor? Could you put Derek on again?”

_“Sure. Oh, and Stiles? Congrats. It’s about damn time,”_ she says and he can hear her grin.

He flushes, extremely glad this conversation is happening over the phone. He doesn’t have a chance to respond before he hears Derek’s voice again, _“Stiles?”_

“Hey, Der, I just talked to Cora. Everything’s good.”

_“And you’re not mad at me?”_

“Of course not, big guy. I’m glad you told them. But more importantly, I’m glad you’re happy.”

_“…I am happy. Happy to be with you,”_ he says quietly. 

Stiles’ heart does a little dance in his chest. His phone vibrates against his ear and he sees that Cora sent him a photo of Derek on the phone with him. His eyes are crinkled and his grin is soft but genuine. “Me too, Derek. Me too.” 

_“I’ll see you soon?”_

“Yep, just forward me the details of the flight you already bought,” he says cheekily. 

_“Shit…CORA!”_ He bellows, probably to hurt her eardrums more than Stiles’, but he still has to hold his phone away from his ear. _“It was supposed to be a surprise.”_

“I could’ve guessed you’d do that, Der.” 

_“I know, I just can’t wait to see you,”_ he says.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he says, hesitating before adding, “I love you.” 

_“I love you, too,”_ Derek replies with an audible smile. Stiles can hear the pack making a medley of noises - vomiting (Cora and Jackson), coos (Kira and Allison), lewd sexual noises (Erica ft. Boyd), and various levels of high school girl oohs (Isaac and Scott). Stiles can also practically feel the magnitude of Lydia’s eye roll at the entire pack. 

“See you soon, Sourwolf,” he says and Derek murmurs his goodbye before the pack starts howling uproariously. Despite needing to be up for work in a few short hours, Stiles falls asleep smiling.


End file.
